


Any Port in a Storm

by scgirl_317



Series: The Rose and the Dragon [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: Drama, F/M, M/M, Rogue Hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scgirl_317/pseuds/scgirl_317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos and Phoenix are being pursued by Martin Keppler’s band of Hunters when Methos thinks of a place they can hide out for a while. But hiding in Torchwood may be just as dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Their footsteps pounded in time with their hearts as they ran down the street. It was late at night, so there were only a few other people on the street, both a good and a bad thing. Good because it meant fewer chances for civilian casualties, but bad because it meant they didn’t have a crowd to disappear into.

The building they were running past showered them in bits of brick and dust as a silenced round stuck the hardened clay, causing them to duck. A frantic look back proved that their pursuers were getting closer, and they pressed on, trying to increase their lead.

They didn’t know how long they had been running. It could have been hours that they had been zigzagging through the streets of London. All they knew, at this point, was that they had to do something to get the Hunters off their tail.

The Tower Bridge loomed ahead, and a look confirmed what they were each thinking. They made a final dash to the bridge, well aware of the footsteps behind them getting closer. They ran along the foot path on the side of the bridge, headed for the middle of the river. Once they had reached the midway point, they grabbed each others’ hands and vaulted over the railing and plunged down into the dark water below.

The Hunters stood at the railing, looking downstream for any sight of the Immortals they had been chasing, but the dark night and the murky water revealed nothing. Their prey had gotten away, for now. A fall from that height would have killed each, certainly, and depending on where the current took them, they would drown several more times before reaching the shore. They would have to wait for daylight before searching the river banks. They would not give up so easily.

* * *

Phoenix came around slowly, her coughing turning to retching as the water reluctantly vacated her lungs. Once she could take a semi-steady breath, she looked around. It was still dark—she hoped it was the same night—and that limited her vision, but she could make out that she was under a river dock, draped unceremoniously over one of the crossbeams. Methos was perched on the beam next to her, at least, she assumed it was him; she could make out a lanky figure, and she didn’t know who else would be below the docks in the middle of the night.

“Welcome back,” he said softly, confirming her assumption.

“How long were we out?” she asked, her voice still raw from expelling the water from her lungs.

“No more than a couple of hours, I’d say,” he replied. “The current apparently carried us to the shore, and we got lodged in between some of the pylons for the dock. I managed to wiggle free and untangle you. Figured here was as good a place as any to stop for breath.”

Phoenix sighed as she pulled herself up to sit next to him on the beam. Once she was sure she wouldn’t fall back into the water, she leaned on his shoulder, welcoming the support as he wrapped his arm around her.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked quietly.

“I think I know a place where we can hide out for a bit,” Methos began. “I worked with a man back in the seventies, in Cardiff. Jack Harkness. We should be pretty safe in his place. We can lay low there until the Hunters lose our scent.”

Phoenix wished she was as confident about that as Methos seemed to be, but he hadn’t survived for five thousand years by being careless. If he said there was a place they could hide out in Cardiff, then she trusted him. However, the name rang a bell to her, but she just couldn’t remember why.

“So, if you worked with this guy that long ago, I’m guessing he’s one of us?” she asked, trying to get her mind off of the present danger.

“Kinda,” he hedged.

“’Kinda?’ What does that mean? Either he’s Immortal, or he isn’t.”

“He’s immortal, but not like us. I never could get a straight answer from him, but apparently something happened to him a long time ago, and now he can’t die. Rather, he doesn’t stay dead; he’ll revive just like we do. And he does age, just at an extremely slow rate. I was there when he found his first grey hair,” Methos chuckled at the memory.

Phoenix shook her head at the strange man Methos described, “Okay, Cardiff it is, then.”


	2. Chapter 2

Come morning, Methos managed to rent a car with little fuss; the manager of the rental dealer decided not to question his muddy, disheveled appearance when Methos handed over an extra two hundred pounds.

Once he had the keys, they headed straight for the M4 and Cardiff. Phoenix spared a moment to mourn the belongings they had been forced to leave behind, especially after her shopping trip in New York, the week before. However, she knew that it was necessary if they were going to evade the Hunters, and Methos assured her that he would have their things sent somewhere safe until they could be retrieved.

Thankfully, it was early enough in the day that traffic was fairly light, and they made the journey in just over two hours. Once in Cardiff, Methos returned the car at the local office for the rental dealer, and he and Phoenix set off on foot. They got more than a few stares as they made their way towards the bay, still in the clothes that had been soaked in the muddy water of the Thames.

They stopped for a moment as Methos gathered his bearings. They had reached Mermaid Quay, now he just had to remember which way to go from here. It had been thirty years since he’d been in Cardiff, and the city had changed since then. However, some things were the same. As he looked around, he caught a glimpse of the grungy, run-down tourist information center that marked their destination.

“Aha! Here we go,” he said, taking Phoenix’s hand and leading her to the almost non-existent store front.

She looked at him warily as he pushed open the door to reveal the cramped office inside, “I’m just gonna go out on a limb here and guess that we’re not going the ‘hide in plain sight at the local tourist trap’ route?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, leaning over the counter, looking for something.

After a moment of searching, he pressed a button behind the counter, and one of the walls slid back to allow them through to passageway beyond. The wall slid back into place behind them, and a lift opened up at the other end. Methos pressed a button, and the lift began to descend, what Phoenix judged to be a good hundred feet below the pavement above. Once the lift reached the bottom, they were released into another passageway, and a cog door rolled back, ahead of them.

Phoenix’s eyebrows shot up at the sheer magnitude of the room revealed to them. The ceiling was at least three stories, and in the center stood a large column matching the obelisk she had seen above in Roald Dahl Plass. A tidal basin ran around the base of the obelisk, and a grating platform allowed access around the room. There were work stations set up with the latest in computer technology, and there was hardware there that she knew was not for public consumption. And as if the overall magnificence of it all was not enough, a loud shrieking drew her attention upwards to see—

“A pterodactyl,” she murmured.

“Actually, she’s a pteranodon,” a voice corrected, descending the stairs from the second level. “Her name’s Myfanwy.”

Phoenix looked up to find the speaker, and her jaw dropped as she recognized him. He looked exactly as he had sixty years ago. No wonder the name “Jack Harkness” had sounded familiar.

“Should have known you would keep a dinosaur as a pet,” Methos said, regarding Jack with wry amusement.

“I needed a guard dog,” Jack shrugged with a wide grin. “Good to see you Cain.”

“Ah, it’s Adam, now,” Methos corrected.

“I stand corrected,” Jack noted, before turning his attention to Phoenix, who had finally come out of her shock and was now glaring at him. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduced himself, giving her the classic Harkness charm that could sell ice to an Eskimo.

“You bastard.”

A barked out laugh drew Phoenix’s attention away from Jack enough to notice the other man and woman in the room, standing by the workstations and watching the exchange with cautious curiosity.

“So I take it you’ve met?” asked the wiry man with a London accent.

Jack’s brow furrowed slightly as he tried to place her, and remember what he had done to make her mad at him.

“October, 1943, Guam, ringing any bells?” she asked, smiling in satisfaction when his eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” she parroted, coming to stand right in front of him. “You owe me fifteen hundred dollars!”

She knew it must be quite a sight for the others, her glaring up at Jack from almost a good foot below him, but she didn’t really care.

“Fifteen hundred… What for?” Jack sputtered.

“That dress you destroyed, it was a Balenciaga, you moron! Be glad I’m not adjusting for inflation, or you’d owe me about twenty grand. And that’s U.S. dollars, thank you very much. One thousand five hundred thirteen dollars and seventy-two cents.”

 “Okay, slow down,” Methos interrupted, placing his hands on Phoenix’s shoulders and pulling her several steps back from Jack. “Why don’t we start with introductions, and then you can tell me why you once defaced my girlfriend’s wardrobe?”

“Of course,” Jack replied, grateful for the temporary reprieve, and he turned back to start with those behind him. “That’s Toshiko Sato, computer wiz; Owen Harper, doctor-slash-coroner-slash-pain-in-the-ass; and Ianto Jones, expert on pretty much anything and maker of the best coffee on the planet,” he finished with the suited man that had followed him down the stairs. “The last member of our team is currently on her honeymoon.”

“Adam Pierson and Anna Hunter,” Methos introduced their current identities, releasing Phoenix to walk around the tidal basin as he took in his surroundings. “You’ve certainly upgraded since I left, though I must say, I think some of those tourist brochures were there when I worked here.”

“You worked for Torchwood?” Tosh asked.

“Back in the seventies,” Methos nodded, able to see the question already forming on her lips, “don’t ask. Cardiff was a good place to hide out, and the company wasn’t too bad, either,” he finished, glancing over at Jack.

“Don’t tell me you two…?” Owen trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “Oh, come on, Jack, seriously, how many exes are you going to bring in here?”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow at Methos, “’Ex?’ You failed to mention the guy we would be hiding out with was your ex.”

“Sure I did,” he shrugged.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Jealous?” he smirked.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t really matter, considering I know where you sleep at night,” she finished with a sly smile that bordered on feral.

“Anyway, back to my previous question. Why did you destroy Anna’s haute couture?” Methos asked Jack, clearing his throat and gathering his wits from where Phoenix had scattered them.

“Well, back then, I knew her as Rebecca Norton,” Jack fielded.

“You idiot, I told you I’d be fine, but no! You had to go and tear up one of Balenciaga’a personal designs! That dress was a gift from Eleanor Roosevelt as a thank-you for my work in the war. It was a work of art. Balenciaga’s dresses have hung in the Met. And you had to destroy it!”

Phoenix was once again seething, and Methos had to physically bar her from reaching Jack, for fear she might actually injure him. Granted, he knew Jack would survive, but he didn’t want to deal with that right now.

“Okay, in calm words of no more than three syllables, can someone please explain what happened?”

“We were at a gala for some of the Allied bigwigs in the Pacific,” Jack began, “black tie and dress blues. Anyway, about midway through the scheduled evening, the Japanese begin bombing the base we were on. _Anna_ and I managed to take cover, but not before a piece of shrapnel lodged itself in her chest. I pulled it out and tore out a piece of the lining of her dress to try to stop the bleeding. I thought I was helping,” he shrugged.

“You could have just put a bullet in my head. I would’ve rathered my hair be ruined than my dress,” Phoenix growled.

“How was I supposed to know what would happen?” Jack defended himself.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Methos interrupted. “Jack, Anna’s not gonna let this drop until she gets restitution for the dress, or she kills you. Depends on how cheap you’ve gotten, but I know how much you hate the headaches that come with getting shot in the head. And you,” he continued, turning to Phoenix, “you are going to behave. We need his help. Got it?”

“I think I can manage to replace the dress,” Jack offered, trusting Methos’ judgment of the situation.

“You’d better,” Phoenix grumbled. Methos gave her a pointed look and she sighed, “Fine, I promise I won’t kill Jack. Happy?”

“Quite,” he grinned.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, you mentioned needing my help?” Jack asked.

“We need a place to lay low for a while,” Methos told him.

“I think we can manage that. Ianto?”

“The old staff quarters haven’t been used in a while, but they’re still livable. I can have them sorted quickly,” the Welshman assured him.

“Great, thanks,” Jack said, turning back to Methos and Phoenix and taking a good look at them. “You two look like you could use a drink.”

Jack returned the way he had come, and Methos prompted Phoenix to follow. Owen and Tosh watched them ascend the stairs, wondering what exactly was going on.

Once up in his office, Jack poured two glasses of scotch and handed them to the two Immortals as they took seats on the couch.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Jack asked, leaning back on his desk. “I haven’t heard from either of you in over thirty years, and you suddenly show up on my doorstep out of the blue. And don’t tell me you were just feeling nostalgic.”

“A cell of Hunters picked us up in New York, a few days ago,” Phoenix explained.

“We went to London via Miami, Cairo, and Paris,” Methos added. “We thought we’d lost them, but they found us last night. We jumped off the Tower Bridge into the Thames to shake them off our tail, and ended up spending the night under a river dock.”

“I think I remember you talking about Hunters,” Jack told Methos. “Mortals who hunt down Immortals for sport, right?”

“And these have a grudge, apparently,” Methos continued. “These guys worked with another Hunter who was killed several years ago, Martin Keppler.”

Phoenix took a swig of the aged liquor, as if trying to drown that particular memory. The sight of her own sword being leveled at her neck was one that still haunted her nightmares. Jack noted the action and considered the ramifications.

“Let me guess, you killed him,” he supposed.

“Not him,” Phoenix corrected quietly. “My boyfriend and his partner were detectives for Cascade Police. Keppler was gonna kill me, so Blair shot him.”

Jack caught the look Methos gave Phoenix as she knocked back the rest of the scotch. There was far more than she was saying, but he didn’t press. He knew that haunted look in her eyes, he saw it in the mirror often enough.

“So, these guys aren’t gonna lose interest any time soon, I’m guessing?”

“They followed us through four countries. I doubt it,” Methos snarked.

“Point taken,” Jack conceded. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to, as long as you don’t mind being put to work.”

“What exactly _is_ your work?” Phoenix asked. “I remember you talking about Torchwood, way back when, but you never said what it is you _do_.”

“We catch aliens,” Jack stated plainly. “We manage the threats and scavenge what we can to defend Earth.”

“There’s this rift in space and time that runs through the middle of Cardiff, kind of like a fault line. It periodically spits out creatures and objects from anywhere and any _when_ ,” Methos added.

“You’re alien catchers,” she said, noding slowly. “Well, guess that’s about as plausible as people who live forever and run around with swords trying to cut each other’s heads off.”

Phoenix looked at Methos, the question in her eyes of whether or not they were safe. He gave her a resigned smile, as if to say that they were probably safer there than they were anywhere else.

“I imagine I could learn a thing or two from your Dr. Harper,” Methos shrugged, looking back at Jack.

“As long as it’s not his bedside manner,” replied Ianto, entering Jack’s office. “Your quarters are ready.”

“Thanks,” Phoenix said, offering him a small smile. “Oh, that reminds me, we’re gonna need some new clothes. We had to leave our stuff in London, and what we’re wearing got soaked in the Thames.”

“Not a problem, ma’am,” Ianto replied.

“Ugh, please, don’t call me ma’am" Phoenix groused. “I didn’t even like it when my students called me that. So if we’re gonna be staying here for a while, I certainly don’t want you calling me that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ianto replied, a smile escaping at her frankness. He eyed her up and down, “You would be a size four?”

“Six,” she corrected, a grin spreading at Ianto’s estimate. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine, Ianto Jones.”

As she considered the young man, she felt a light tingling in the back of her head, similar to what she felt from Methos, but not as strong. She realized she was feeling the buzz of a pre-Immortal, meaning that Ianto was one of them. She looked at Methos to confirm that he felt it, too.

“How about you two get cleaned up down in my bathroom, and we’ll see about getting you some new clothes,” Jack suggested.

“I can take Tosh and be back in an hour,” Ianto offered.

“Here, use this,” Jack said, handing the Welshman a plastic card from his wallet.

Phoenix and Methos shared a look once Ianto had gone.

“Did you feel it?” she asked, with a smile.

“Yes, and I know that look,” he groused good-naturedly. “What do you have in mind?”

She grinned and pulled the dagger from her boot, fingering the blade.

“No!” Methos protested. “You are not killing him! You are not going to take away any chances that boy has of a normal life!”

“Look at where he works,” she countered. “I’m guessing any hope for normal went out the window a long time ago. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Wouldn’t it be better to be under controlled circumstances, instead of getting torn apart by some alien?”

Methos sighed. He knew Phoenix had a point, but it still rankled with him to force their life upon someone. Ianto had a chance to live a normal life and die of old age, though admittedly that chance was miniscule, considering that the average Torchwood employee was dead by thirty-five.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Jack asked, reminding them that he was in the room.

“Ianto’s one of us,” Methos explained. “Or rather, he will be, after he’s killed.”

“Are you sure?” Jack questioned quietly, half hoping they were right and half dreading the implications.

“The same thing that allows us to sense the presence of other Immortals also allows us to detect the potential in one yet to be,” the old Immortal continued. “Ianto has this potential. He’ll continue to live a normal mortal life until he’s killed, at which point he’ll become Immortal.”

“The first death is always violent, and usually the worst,” Phoenix said. “All I’m suggesting is we minimize the trauma involved.”

“You want to kill Ianto to make him Immortal,” Jack said slowly. “I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that.”

He took a deep breath and leaned heavily on his desk as the repercussions of this revelation settled in. He had long considered his immortality a curse he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy, and the idea of his beloved Welshman facing a similar fate was borderline repulsive. However, he could not deny that a part of him was overjoyed at the prospect of not having to spend eternity alone.

When his mind finally stopped spinning and settled, he knew that such a thing should not be up to them. Working for Torchwood, Ianto’s chances of an early death were an almost certainty. Jack saw no need to rush things.

“Come on,” Jack began, attempting to shake off the heavy mood that had settled, “you can get cleaned up, downstairs, and I’ll get some clothes for you to wear until Ianto gets back.”

He lifted the trap door and descended the ladder that led down into his bunker. As he pulled out some clothes that would do for a short period, Methos took in the changes in the small room. It had been almost forty years since he had left Torchwood and Jack, but the major details remained. The double bed and bureau were in the same place as they had been many years ago, but there was now a CD player next to the turntable.

He also recognized the tell-tale signs of a second part-time occupant. The neatness of the stack of books and the folded clothes pointed to the young pre-Immortal being Jack’s current lover. _That explains his reaction_ , Methos realized. Jack knew the kind of life that came with Immortality, even though he himself was not one, and he didn’t want Ianto to have to deal with that. But on the other hand, Immortality meant that Jack would finally have someone he really could spend the rest of his life with.

Jack opened the bureau and removed two tee shirts and pairs of sweatpants, setting them on the bed.

“They won’t fit well, but it’s something to wear until Ianto and Tosh get back with clothes that do. I’ll be up in my office when you’re done.”

Jack ascended the ladder out of his bunker, leaving the two Immortals alone. Methos took a look at Phoenix and could tell that the exhaustion was catching up with her. She wasn’t used to running like they had been for the past week. Her five hundred plus years had been spent in relative peace, the most trauma coming from when her tribe had been rounded up with the rest of the Cherokee in northern Georgia and herded out to Oklahoma. Being hunted was something new.

Gently, he helped her strip off her mud-caked clothes and piled them aside to be cleaned later. Once he determined the water to be the right temperature, he guided her into the shower and began washing the dirt away. He massaged shampoo in her hair and rinsed away the muddy lather, making sure the comb the tangles out. Once they were both clean, he grabbed a towel and rubbed her dry before dressing her in the clothes Jack had laid out. It took little prompting to get her to lie down on the bed, and it was only minutes before she was in a deep sleep.

Once Methos was satisfied that Phoenix was out, he ascended the ladder back up to Jack’s office. He found the other man sitting at his desk pretending to read a report on recent rift activity.

“How is she?” Jack asked, looking up from the paperwork.

“Sleeping, right now,” Methos replied, slouching down on the couch. “The past week has been hard enough, and spending the night roosting on the underside of a Thames river dock like some pigeon didn’t help. She’s lived the most peaceful life an Immortal can have outside of Holy Ground; she’s never had to run like this, before, and she’s exhausted.”

“Well, you two can stay here as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Methos said gratefully.

“You look pretty beat yourself, old man,” Jack noted. “Go on back down and get some sleep. You’re in a safe place here, and I know you don’t find those very often.”

Methos couldn’t disagree, so he nodded and went back down the ladder. Jack’s bed was small but there was room for him to slide in next to Phoenix, wrapping his arms around her slight frame. Instinctively, she rolled over in her sleep and burrowed into his chest.

Their troubles were far from over, but in the Hub at least, they had a temporary respite.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack came down into the main Hub when he heard the cog door rolling back. Ianto and Tosh were both laden with bags from Marks & Spencer, and they wore matching smiles.

“You two look like you enjoyed yourselves,” Jack said, taking in the large volume of purchases. “You leave anything in the store?”

“Well, we didn’t think they’d want to have to do laundry every three days, so we made sure to get plenty of outfits, as well as personal items,” Tosh explained.

“Good thinking. I’ll help Ianto cart this stuff down to their room, Tosh. I want you to do some digging, hunt down every trace you can of Adam Pierson and Anna Hunter.”

“You think they’re involved in something?” she asked as she handed over her bags.

“I know they are,” Jack replied. “I just want to know how clear a trail they’ve left. In fact, see if you can’t lay out some breadcrumbs to Jakarta.”

“On it,” she said, going to her desk and getting straight to work.

“Jack!” called Owen, climbing out of the autopsy bay. “Listen, I’m all for helping an old friend, but if you knew these people over thirty years ago, I think there are a few things that need to be explained.”

Jack set the bags down and sighed, trying to decide how to best broach the subject, “Adam and Anna are Immortal.”

“Like you?” Ianto asked.

“Not exactly. I was made immortal, but they were born that way. They’re part of a race of people who have the innate ability to heal from anything, much faster than I can. If they are fatally injured, they can revive just like me. The only thing certain to kill them is if you decapitate them.”

“And I’m guessing they don’t age, just like you?” Owen clarified.

“Well, I age very slowly, but I do age. They don’t. Not sure about Anna, but Adam’s way older than me.”

“And the reason they’re on the run?” the doctor pressed.

“There is a group of mortals who track Immortals, keep tabs on them. All they do is watch and keep a chronicle of their activities. Some of these decided that Immortals are a threat, and started hunting them down. A cell of these Hunters picked up their trail in New York, last week.”

“Any idea how long they will be staying?” Ianto asked, already making a mental list of additional supplies he might need, as well as a mental note to ask how they liked their coffee.

“Either until the Hunters are no longer a threat or they move on to other prey,” Jack replied. “Either way, they’ll be here for a while. Owen, Adam has medical training, but it’s been a while, so get him up to speed on what we have. Ianto, I’ll leave Anna in your capable hands. She’s got a head for facts and an ear for languages.”

Jack once again grabbed the shopping bags and headed towards the staff quarters where Ianto had prepared a room for the two Immortals, effectively ending the conversation.

* * *

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, something Jack was deeply grateful for. He sent Tosh and Owen home early, Ianto stayed around to help deal with Methos and Phoenix. They had slept straight through the afternoon, and it was now well into the evening.

Around eight o’clock, Jack and Ianto were sitting on the couch down in the Hub when they finally saw signs of life. The two Immortals emerged from Jack’s bunker, looking disheveled but rested. The dark circles under Phoenix’s eyes said otherwise, though.

She took a deep breath as she came down the stairs, inhaling the scent of the Chinese take-out Ianto and Jack had spread out on the coffee table by the couch.

“Food, brilliant,” she said, navigating straight to a carton of General Tso’s chicken and plucking the set of chopsticks out of Jack’s hand.

“Hey!” Jack protested half-heartedly, already reaching for another set.

“Leave her,” Methos warned with a grin, reaching for his own carton. “We haven’t had a chance to eat since lunch yesterday. You don’t want to mess with her when her blood sugar’s low.”

“Duly warned,” Jack noted.

The four ate in silence for a bit before Phoenix sent a pointed look at Methos. He sighed, and in turn, looked at Jack. The latter understood the unspoken conversation, and nodded his assent. May as well get this over with.

“So, how much has Jack told you about what we are?” Methos asked Ianto.

“Just the basics, I’d guess,” the young Welshman replied hesitantly. “You’re Immortal, but it’s different from Jack in that you don’t age and can be killed. There have been rumors of Immortals going back centuries. Back in the early days, Torchwood did some research on Immortals, but a mysterious fire destroyed all of the records, and the topic was dropped, deemed a waste of time and resources.”

Methos suppressed a grin at mention of the “mysterious” fire. He had recalled coming across a dossier when he was a Watcher that recorded Torchwood’s investigations into Immortality, and that the fire had been set by a Watcher plant working in Torchwood. The Watchers truly did have people everywhere.

“Just the basics, but it’s a good place to start,” he commented. “One thing you should know about us is that we have the ability to sense other Immortals. A sort of early warning system, so to speak, that gives us the chance to get away if we want to hide.”

“A handy ability, I can imagine,” Ianto noted.

“Another thing to know is that we’re not born Immortal,” Phoenix added. “The ability is always there, but it’s dormant until our first death. Some few manage to escape this violent death, and live to die a natural, human death and stay dead, but these are very few. Once our Immortality is activated, for lack of a better phrase, we don’t age. Whatever age we die at is where we remain for the rest of our lives.”

“The thing is, our ability to sense other Immortals also allows us to detect the potential in others,” Methos picked back up. “When you walked into Jack’s office earlier, we both picked up on this potential in you.”

“I’m Immortal?” Ianto asked, making sure he understood them correctly.

“After your first death, yes,” Phoenix replied.

They watched as this new information settled over him. Ianto knew that Jack considered his immortality a curse more than anything, but he also knew that belief was largely born from having to lose anyone he got close to. Ianto felt extremely honored that Jack had let him in as much as he had, even though he knew the older man didn’t have near the depth of feeling as himself. With the knowledge that Ianto could live as long as he would, a part of the Welshman dared to hope that might change.

“Well, at least I have plenty of time to teach you how to do a proper load of laundry, now,” Ianto commented dryly, suppressing the strong urge to snog Jack within an inch of his life.

Methos wrapped his arm around Phoenix, deciding that this was enough for now. They would have plenty of time to go into the bloody truth of Immortality tomorrow.

“Okay, enough of this stuff. What kind of work do you have for the two of us?” Methos interrupted good-naturedly.

Ianto pulled back and licked his lips, the slightest hint of a blush gracing his cheeks. Jack gave him a happy smile before turning to the two Immortals.

“Owen’s prepared a crash course on Torchwood medicine over the past thirty years,” he told Methos. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to medical school,” he added with a grin.

“In the meantime, I’ll show you around the archives and our filing system,” Ianto told Phoenix. “You’d be surprised the amount of paperwork this place generates.”

“So, you want me to be your secretary?” Phoenix asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jack smothered a laugh at Ianto’s affronted expression. The Welshman took his duties as an archivist seriously, and was incredulous that someone would dumb that down to a simple secretarial position. Phoenix saw this, and grinned in amusement.

“Don’t worry, Ianto. I spent eleven years as a professor at Rainier University. I’m no stranger to filing paperwork.”

Ianto sighed in relief, and Jack let out a laugh. Methos rolled his eyes at the teasing banter, but he was glad that Phoenix was capable of fitting in there. His brow furrowed as something else occurred to him.

“Jack, the Hunters are out for Adam Pierson. I’m going to need a new name to stay out of sight.”

“Not a problem, just pick a name,” Jack assured him. “What about Anna?” he asked Phoenix.

“No, Anna’s clean,” she replied. “She’s only a couple weeks old, so it shouldn’t be too hard to change some of her details to fit. Adam’s the one they’ve been targeting. I became Anna after I left Cascade and I’ve been careful not to leave a paper trail, so they don’t know about her.”

“I had Tosh run tracks for you headed to Indonesia, just in case,” he replied. “Anyone looking for you won’t know any better until they’ve knocked down your hotel door.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Methos replied gratefully. “We really appreciate your help.”

“What are friends for, if not to provide help in hiding from revenge-fueled Hunters hell-bent on taking your head?”

Phoenix grabbed one of the beers sitting on the coffee table, passing the other to Methos.

“To friends in safe harbors.”


	4. Chapter 4

Methos awoke the next morning to a slight shuffling in the room. He opened his eyes to see light from the adjoining bathroom illuminating Phoenix digging through the Marks & Spencer bags Ianto had left.

“Anything in there I won’t be embarrassed to wear?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, “Do you really think that anyone who bothers to wear a three-piece suit to work in a place like this would pick out anything that was less than presentable?”

“Point taken.”

As Methos showered, Phoenix pulled out a red button-up blouse, dark wash jeans, black waistcoat, and black ankle boots. Methos came back out once she was dressed, and she took a moment to enjoy the sight of him wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim hips.

“See anything you like?” he asked coyly, retrieving a pair of stone-washed jeans from one of the bags.

“Very much,” she replied, quirking an eyebrow and standing to approach him. “However, I think I like you better sans towel,” she added, snagging the towel away from his body.

Methos growled playfully as he pulled her in for a kiss. She allowed him to thoroughly pillage her mouth before pulling back.

“Get dressed. Don’t wanna be late on the first day at the new job.”

He shook his head at her, but turned back to pull out a heather green henley. An item in the bag caught Phoenix’s eye, and she nabbed it. With a flourish and a wide grin, she flipped the fedora onto her head.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Methos asked, impressed.

“Was stuck on a train with a circus, back in the twenties. A landslide had blocked the tracks, so we were parked in the middle of nowhere for five hours. I got bored, so I made friends with one of the jugglers. He taught me all sorts of tricks.”

“You’re still full of surprises, Fire Bird,” he said, smiling fondly.

Phoenix smiled at his use of her true name, a gesture that she saw as on par with saying, “I love you.” She stepped up to him and kissed him again, softer then the previous but no less passionate.

“I love you, Methos.”

“Love you, too.”

“I’m gonna go see about breakfast, and then talk to Toshiko about editing Anna’s bio. What do you think? Think I could pass for Bristol?” she asked, switching to a southern English accent at the end.

“Easily. And I think it’s time for me to revive Doctor Adams.”

“My Benjamin,” she smiled, kissing him once more before heading out of the room and up to the main part of the Hub.

When she reached the main area, she saw that Tosh and Owen had yet to arrive, but Ianto was already there, dressed impeccably as he fed Myfanwy. She breathed deeply as the smell of brewing coffee reached her nose.

“Good morning, Mister Jones,” she greeted cheerfully. “I see you’re quite punctual. Or, did you ever actually leave here, last night?” she asked with a smirk.

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell,” Ianto replied, surprising himself with his frank banter. “You sound as though you’ve gone native fairly quickly.”

Phoenix laughed at his response, pleased that he seemed comfortable around her.

“I can’t well blend in talking like a Yank. I’ll stand out like a sore thumb. Is that coffee I smell?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, it is. How do you and Adam take it?”

“Black, three sugars, for me,” she replied. “White, for Adam, although he’ll be going by Ben, now. We need to see about getting our identities in order.”

“Let me get Jack his coffee, and then we can get started on your ID’s.”

“Ah, Jack’s one of those? Don’t mess with him until he’s had his coffee?” Phoenix asked with a grin.

“It’s bad enough on a normal day, but he’s been on the phone with UNIT for almost an hour,” Ianto said with a grimace. “Five minutes with them is all it takes to get him in a foul mood.”

“Mental note: avoid UNIT in conversation with Jack,” she said, following Ianto to the kitchen as he began fixing coffees. “Would you like a hand with anything?”

“Thank you, but I can manage the coffee. Black, three sugars,” Ianto repeated her request, handing her a cup.

Phoenix took a sip and almost choked, the intense flavor catching her off-guard.

“Holy crap, Ianto, this is amazing!” she gushed, lapsing back into her native accent.

Ianto simply smiled as he turned to make his way up the stairs to Jack’s office. He braced for what he might be walking into, already able to hear Jack swearing vehemently. It couldn’t get any worse, so Ianto entered quietly. He was just in time to see Jack throw his phone down on his desk.

“Taking it out on the phone isn’t going to help matters any,” Ianto hedged, making sure the coffee cup was in clear view.

“No, but it makes me feel better,” Jack growled, taking the cup from the Welshman. He took one sip and his features instantly relaxed. “Have I told you lately how insanely amazing your coffee is?”

“Pretty much every day, but it’s always appreciated,” Ianto smiled. “Owen got a call from one of his friends who works in the city morgue. He’s going to check out a couple suspicious John Doe’s who’ve turned up recently. Tosh should be in any minute, and Anna’s already up. I’m going to get started on getting her and Adam’s identities in order.”

“My, aren’t we the model of efficiency, this morning?” Jack remarked. “Think you can adjust your schedule so I can give you the proper ‘good morning’ that that call from UNIT oh so rudely interrupted?”

“Jack, your ‘proper good morning’s can take two hours,” Ianto rolled his eyes. “But I can manage this,” he added leaning down to catch Jack’s lips in a searing kiss.

“Satisfied?” he asked with a smirk, both breathless.

“Cheeky,” Jack rebuked lightly, grin firmly in place.

“That’s just one of my many endearing qualities,” Ianto threw over his shoulder as he left Jack’s office.

Jack shook his head at the change in the subdued Welshman since the revelation of his Immortality the evening before. In even the few hours that had passed, Ianto’s soft-spoken nature had transformed into a more bold and brazen attitude. Jack supposed that these traits had always been there, lurking deep under the surface, but he had lacked the confidence to act on them. This was more like the Ianto that had stalked him for days before Jack finally relented and hired him. Looking back, Jack realized that was probably one of the best decisions he’d ever made, next to rescuing Rose from that barrage balloon during the Blitz.

Smiling to himself, Jack continued to sip his coffee as he got started on that day’s work.

* * *

By the time Methos emerged from their quarters, Phoenix and Ianto had already gotten her identity as Anna Hunter altered to say she was from Bristol, England, instead of Bristol, Tennessee.

“You’re just in time,” Phoenix greeted him with a wide grin. “I was about to tell him to list you as a twenty-two-year-old transvestite from Portsmouth.”

“If you’re going with that story, Brighton would be better,” he parried back. “Is there coffee?”

“Anna said you take it white?” Ianto clarified, handing Methos an already made cup.

Methos eyed them both for a moment before taking a sip, his eyes going wide.

“You can’t be serious?” he asked, amazed. “This is incredible!”

Ianto graciously accepted the praise of his coffee and turned back to the computer screen, “You said Doctor Benjamin Adams? MD or PhD?”

“MD,” Methos replied. “Went to medical school in Heidelberg.”

 “I think they’ve made a few advancements in medical science since you were a med student,” Phoenix pointed out. “University of Vermont has a decent medical program, they have plenty of foreign students, and it’s obscure enough to not draw attention.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ianto said warily; he wasn’t sure how to deal with the fact that these people knew more than he did.

“I was a shrink in a former life,” she shrugged. “Psychiatrists have to get an MD as well as a PhD. It was a nice out-of-the-way school where I could study.”

“University of Vermont, it is,” Ianto said, filling in the appropriate documents.

An alarm sounded in the Hub, alerting them to Tosh’s arrival. She breezed through the cog door, but her usual chipperness was paused when she saw Phoenix and Methos standing over by Ianto.

“Oh, hello,” she said hesitantly, going to her own desk.

Phoenix smiled and stepped over to her, leaving Ianto and Methos to finish Ben Adams’ paperwork. They were the interlopers, and Phoenix took it upon herself to offer an olive branch.

“I realize that our introduction was a bit abrupt, yesterday, and I understand that Jack told you about us. I just want you to know that we’re grateful for the help, and I would like it if we could be friends.”

“Jack did tell us a little about Immortals,” Tosh replied. “I must admit, it all sounded a bit far fetched."

“That was exactly my reaction when Jack old me what you all do here,” Phoenix grinned. “Aliens from other worlds sounds just as far-fetched as people who live forever and go around cutting each other’s heads off.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Tosh chuckled, and then paused, thinking. “Jack asked me to lay out a paper trail leading away from Cardiff, yesterday. If the Hunters are keeping a watch for Adam Pierson, they should end up in the Crown Hotel in Jakarta, room 1021.”

“You have a wonderful eye for detail, Miss Sato,” Phoenix replied, impressed.

“Thank you. Anyway, if they’re looking for Adam, I assume he’ll have a new identity.”

“Yes, Ianto’s working on creating Ben Adams, but I would also appreciate it if you would go back and make sure both of us are thoroughly backstopped.”

“Of course,” Tosh assured her.

“Thank you, Toshiko,” Phoenix smiled appreciatively.

“Please, call me Tosh.”

Alarms sounded as the cog door rolled back, allowing Owen entry into the Hub.

“Oh, how I wish I still drank coffee,” he moaned, slouching into his desk chair.

“Did you find something at the hospital, Owen?” Ianto asked.

“Declan understated just how weird this was,” said Owen. “This is definitely what PC Andy would call one of our ‘spooky-dos.’”

“What’d you find?” Jack asked, coming down from his office.

“All three stiffs died from the same poison,” Owen replied, turning around and pulling up the autopsy reports Declan had emailed him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like arsenic poisoning, but I took a closer look, and all of them had at least one puncture wound. No one thought much of it, since the stiffs died in the woods, and could have landed on any number of fallen branches that could have caused similar injuries.”

“So they were stabbed and poisoned,” Methos surmised.

“I’m hoping I can find a match in our database,” Owen said, already inserting the blood sample he had taken into the alien equivalent to a GCMS they had discovered.

After a brief moment’s analysis, the device beeped, and the computer interface that Tosh had created displayed the results. The others looked over Owen’s shoulder at the results on the screen.

“We’re looking for a porcupine?” Phoenix asked, incredulous.

The creature on the screen did bear a strong resemblance to the North American rodent—rounded figure, razor-sharp claws, and a coat of long, slender, quill-like spines covering what looked like a relatively small body.

“Commonly found on Raxicoricofalipitorious,” Jack noted. “If the natives of that world are any indication, I’d say it’s a little bigger than a porcupine. Where were the bodies found?”

Tosh was already pulling up the police reports on her computer, “All three were found near the northwest wooded area of Roath Park.”

“We’ve tracked down plenty of weevils in Roath Park. A giant porcupine shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Ianto said.

“Perfect, now you’ve jinxed it,” Phoenix groaned.

“And you two have just volunteered to help me track this thing down,” Jack finished. “Ianto, show Anna the armory. I’ll get the tranquilizer. We leave in ten.”

Methos groaned. Phoenix was a magnet for trouble, and he had serious reservations about her going out with Jack, even if Ianto was going with them. He doubted the young pre-Immortal was enough to temper Jack.

Phoenix sighed, rolling her eyes as Ianto led the way down to the armory for her to pick out a sidearm. Once they were gone, Methos followed Jack down to the autopsy bay.

“Jack, if anything happens to Anna, I will kill you,” he said quite seriously.

“Relax, it’s a simple grab-and-bag,” Jack tried to assure him. “You and I handled much worse on our own.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not that hard for Death to hunt down aliens,” Methos hissed quietly. “When I said Anna’s lived a quiet life, I meant it. She hasn’t seen what you and I have. “

“Ben, I promise, Ianto and I’ll look after her,” Jack said, placing a hand on the old Immortal’s shoulder. “You have my word.”

“You’d better; otherwise, I’ll resurrect methods of torture and execution that the Egyptians thought barbaric.”

Jack nodded, not doubting for one second that Methos would carry through on his threat. Thankfully, he saw Ianto and Phoenix returning to the Hub proper, and was therefore saved from continuing the conversation. He grabbed the tranquilizer gun and went back up to meet them.

“Ready?” he asked, watching as Phoenix double checked the Beretta 9-mil she had selected as back-up to the standard stun gun.

“Let’s go bag us a porcupine,” she replied, game for anything.

“Be careful,” Methos said one last time as the three headed out the cog door.

“They’ll be fine,” Tosh tried to reassure him.

“She’s in good hands with those two, mate,” Owen chimed in. “Come on, let’s get you up to speed.”

Methos relented and followed Owen back down to the autopsy bay. Something didn’t sit right with him, but he put it down to being on edge about the Hunters. Trying to put it out of his mind, he turned his attention to Owen’s explanation of the alien scanner.


	5. Chapter 5

Phoenix scanned the underbrush in the park. She could just hear Jack and Ianto to either side of her, the three spread out to cover more ground. Her senses were on high alert as she made her way through the faint path in the dense underbrush, searching for any indication of where the creature was.

As she rounded a large rock outcropping, a rustling reached her ears. She drew her stun gun, just in case, and stepped as quietly as possible. Her eyes grew when the creature came into view. She slowly reached up to key her comm.

“Uh, guys, found it,” she whispered. “Jack, you weren’t kidding when you said it was bigger than a porcupine.”

“ _How much bigger?_ ” Jack’s voice crackled through her earpiece.

“Um, ever seen a grizzly bear up close?” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

How this thing had stayed hidden so far was beyond her. Down on all fours as it was, its head was level with hers, and twice as big. Each quill looked to be about an inch in diameter and over a foot long. It seemed docile enough, munching on green branches, but she didn’t want to risk it.

“ _Okay, stay where you are, we’re right behind you. Don’t approach it until we get there._ ”

“Oh, trust me, I wasn’t about to.”

Within moments, Jack and Ianto rounded the outcropping. They stepped carefully to avoid startling the creature; however, large amounts of recent rainfall had left the ground soft and footing loose. Ianto slipped on the soggy leaves, arms flailing momentarily as he tried to regain his balance. It was a brief moment, but it was enough to grab the creature’s attention.

Suddenly aware that it was not alone, it spun to face them. It growled fiercely, baring teeth as deadly as the quills, and swung its tail at them. Several quills loosened and flew towards them. Two lodged in a tree, one barely missed Ianto’s ear as he ducked, but the fourth struck Phoenix in the throat, puncturing her windpipe.

Jack fired several tranquilizer rounds at the creature, hoping the dosage would be enough to incapacitate but not kill it, while Ianto reached for Phoenix as she fell. Panic crossed her face as she gasped for air. Once Jack was satisfied that the creature was unconscious, he knelt next to the pair on the ground.

“What do we need to do?” Ianto asked, cradling her head.

“All we can do is minimize any potential damage,” Jack replied, understanding the silent demand in her face. “You have a pen knife?”

“Yes,” he answered, reaching into his pocket.

Before Ianto could ask what it was for, Jack had unbuttoned Phoenix’s waistcoat and blouse and plunged the blade directly into her heart. Her eyes widened momentarily before she went slack.

“What the devil was that?” Ianto asked, alarmed.

“We need to keep her from moving around, otherwise the damage could be irreparable,” Jack calmly explained. “Best way to ensure that is if she’s dead. We need to get back to the Hub. I’ll take Anna down to Owen while you find something to transport this thing in. Once Anna’s been seen to, we’ll come back for it.”

Ianto had no chance for further questions, as Jack was already lifting Phoenix into his arms and began carefully making his way back to the SUV.

* * *

Once Owen began pointing out the various alien medical devices Torchwood had collected over the last thirty years, Methos found himself fully engrossed. The Bekaran scanner was fascinating, and he wondered what his medical professors would have said about such a thing, five hundred years before.

Owen was showing him how to calibrate the singularity scalpel when the pavement stone from the plas above began to descend. Methos glanced up, having wondered about the use of such an entrance, and froze when he saw Phoenix being held, limp in Jack’s arms.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice as cold as ice as he walked up to meet them.

“It was a lot bigger than we expected,” Jack replied, knowing that as soon as he relinquished his hold on Phoenix, Methos would shoot him. “The quill is in there pretty good. Ianto’s pen knife is keeping her dead until you two can assess the damage.”

True to form, once Methos was assured that Phoenix was stable on the exam table, he pulled her handgun from where it was secured behind her back and shot Jack squarely between the eyes.

“Okay, time to put that scanner to use,” Methos said, turning his attention back to Phoenix. “We need to see just how much damage has been done to her throat.”

Owen blinked in the sudden change in demeanor. He knew he could be as calloused as anyone, but Methos hadn’t even blinked when pulling the trigger.

There was a clatter of footsteps as Tosh came running around the corner, her weapon drawn and ready to shoot. Her eyes widened when she saw Jack slumped at the base of the steps down into the autopsy bay.

“What happened?” she exclaimed.

“I shot him,” Methos replied without hesitation.

“Why?” she asked cautiously.

“Compared to what I’ll do if we can’t repair the damage, that was me being kind. Now let’s get to work.”

Tosh heard the threat in his voice, and deemed it wise to retreat back to her desk. She would just be in the way if she stayed, and she didn’t want to be around if things didn’t go well. With one last glance at Owen, who looked just as wary himself, she quietly returned to her desk.

Any praise Methos had had for the alien technology at his disposal was magnified as he put it to use. The fine resolution of the Bekaran scanner showed the quill had just missed Phoenix’s vocal chords by a hair’s breadth, and the puncture appeared to be relatively clean and not jagged as he had feared. Leaving Ianto’s knife in place, Methos and Owen began the delicate task of removing the quill.

“I thought you guys could heal from anything?” Owen asked as he carefully retracted the flesh from around the quill to reduce any risk of snagging.

“The neck is our one weak spot,” Methos replied, fully focused on his task. “Our Achilles Heel, as it were. Neck wounds don’t heal like everything else. I knew an Immortal who had the voice of an angel until his throat was cut. He survived, but his voice was damaged permanently.”

Jack gasped from where he had fallen to the floor of the autopsy bay. Knowing when to keep his mouth shut, he retreated to the Hub proper without a word. He caught Tosh’s gaze silently conveying her relief, and she told him that Ianto had returned the Land rover to the garage. Jack thanked her and went to meet him, grabbing the keys to one of the larger vehicles Torchwood kept for instances just such as this.

Ianto met him in the garage, his eyes widening when he saw the traces of blood remaining from where Methos had shot Jack.

“What happened?” he asked as Jack slipped behind the steering wheel of the van.

“Ah, Ben shot me, no big deal,” Jack replied dismissively.

“He just shot you?” Ianto couldn’t understand why Jack was being so casual about it.

Jack stopped the van at the garage entrance and turned to face Ianto.

“Why do you think I had you drive back to the Hub? It was so I could be the one to take Anna down. I know Ben, and I knew his first reaction would likely be to shoot whoever he deemed responsible. I didn’t want to risk you.”

“But according to them, I’d become Immortal after I was killed?” Ianto was still missing something.

“There’s still a lot about being Immortal that you don’t know,” Jack sighed. “Their brand of Immortality comes with a lot more baggage than just living forever. I don’t want anything to happen to you until they have a chance to explain it.”

Ianto nodded, beginning to get a better idea of what had happened. “Still doesn’t make it okay for him to shoot you.”

“Better me than someone who would actually stay dead,” Jack shrugged, finally pulling out into the sunlight and turning in the direction of Roath Park.

* * *

Owen left the fine work of stitching up the wound up to Methos’ two hands. He was forced to grudgingly admit, no matter how long it had been since the Immortal had actually practiced medicine, he was a bloody good surgeon. Sharp eyes that would never be marred by glaucoma or cataracts and steady hands that would never be impaired by arthritis or tremors made him perfectly suited for the fine work on Phoenix’s neck.

Owen glanced down at his bandaged hand. Not for the first time did he curse his stupidity for breaking his perfectly capable fingers right after he had died. No amount of frustration he had felt then made up for the lack in dexterity he now suffered.

A pronounced sigh from across the exam table drew his attention back. Methos had finished stitching up the wound in Phoenix’s neck. It was now a matter of allowing her to revive to see if their efforts had been enough.

He traded a look with Owen before carefully removing the pen knife from her chest. He set it aside to clean so he could give it back to Ianto, and turned his full attention back to his mate on the table. Owen didn’t miss Methos taking Phoenix’s hand, his eyes riveted to her face.

Almost a full minute passed before a slight cough sounded, preceding Phoenix gasping for air. Her eyes widened, darting around as she tried to ascertain her location. Methos gently placed a hand against her cheek in an effort to calm her.

“Easy, Fire Bird, you’re safe. You’re okay, just relax.”

His use of her first name seemed to seep through, and she calmed as she took deep breaths to replenish the oxygen that her body had been starved of. The tightness in her throat stemming from where Methos had stitched her up slowly subsided as her flesh knit itself back together. The thread and a faint scar were soon the only evidence there had been a wound, and the former was soon snipped away.

“Try to talk, quietly,” Methos told her.

“You and Jack have the same definition of ‘simple,’” she replied; her voice was scratchy, but otherwise intact, causing Methos to heave a sigh of relief. She cleared her throat and tried again, her voice stronger, this time, “Are Jack and Ianto okay?”

Methos’ jaw tightened, still furious at Jack. Owen saw her eyes narrow in suspicion, and he stepped up to head off any kind of situation.

“They’re fine. Went back to pick up the creature. They should be back any minute now.”

Phoenix eyed him, knowing there was something that they were not saying. She’d get to the bottom of whatever it was, but her immediate priority was on getting dressed. She sat up easily and hopped off the table, buttoning several buttons on her blouse to keep from showing any more flesh than was necessary.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll go change into something not drenched in blood. Ben, I think it’s time for me to have that chat with Ianto. Let him know when he gets back, would you?”

Methos gave her a brisk nod, knowing full disclosure could not be put off any longer. Phoenix saw the haunted look behind his eyes, and stopped to press a firm kiss to his lips to remind him that she was alive and well.

“I’ll send him to you,” he said softly.

She gave him a small smile and made her way back to their room. As she crossed the Hub, she saw Tosh eyeing her warily.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“I don’t know, is it?” Tosh replied.

“Dying isn’t pleasant, but I’ll be fine,” Phoenix answered, misinterpreting Tosh’s unease.

“But what about him?” Tosh pressed, nodding towards the autopsy bay.

“What, Ben? He gets a little jumpy when I die, but he’ll be fine,” Phoenix replied, curious about what the Torchwood agent was getting at. “What happened while I was dead?”

“He shot Jack,” Tosh said quietly.

Phoenix closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She should have known Methos would do something so impulsively stupid. He wouldn’t wait for answers, and he would see Jack as responsible for her death. Yep, she would definitely have words with him later.

“Idiot,” she grumbled with a sigh. “I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I need to get into some clean clothes. Don’t worry, Ben’s not about to shoot anyone else.”

Phoenix turned and continued on to her quarters. Tosh followed her with her eyes, switching her gaze down to the autopsy bay when the Immortal was out of sight. She caught the guarded look in Ben’s eyes and Owen’s concerned expression. These combined made her stomach knot up in anxiety.


	6. Chapter 6

Once Ianto and Jack had transferred the giant rodent to a relatively cramped holding cell, he went straight for Methos. Without batting an eye, he swung a right hook that landed squarely on Methos’ jaw.

“You didn’t have to shoot him,” the Welshman growled, turning on his heel and stalking down to the archives.

“Ianto,” Phoenix called after him as he descended into the lower levels, “we need to talk.”

Ianto had the sense to recognize her desire for secrecy, despite his still simmering anger at her mate, and directed her to follow him into the archives. Once down there, she set aside her sword as he turned to face her.

“Okay, first of all, if you had been with Ben and gotten injured, don’t you think Jack would have shot him? I’m not excusing his actions; I think he massively overreacted. I’m simply explaining them. We both have extremely protective mates, and there are times when that passion will override logic. It’s not the first time Jack’s been shot, and I have a feeling that they will be at each other’s throats regularly. It will be up to us to keep them from killing each other too often. Understood?”

Grudgingly, Ianto had to admit that she had a point. He had been aware of Jack’s fierce protectiveness since the incident in the Brecon Beacons. He had no trouble imagining Jack shooting someone for endangering Ianto—or any of the others, for that matter.

“That you retaliated speaks to your level of devotion to Jack, and is commendable,” Phoenix continued, interrupting his train of thought.

“How did you know?” he asked, puzzled.

“Because it’s what I would have done,” she replied with a grin. “Well, now that we have that out of the way, it’s time to get down to business. As I’m sure Jack’s told you, being Immortal means much more than just simply living forever. There are rules that we must live by, and things we must do to ensure that we continue to live.”

For the next several hours, Phoenix laid out the specifics of Immortality, the Game, and Holy Ground. For the most part, Ianto was silent, listening with rapt attention and speaking only to ask for clarification. Both had lost track of how long they had been talking when Jack came looking for them.

“Busy afternoon?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking almost sheepish to Phoenix’s mind; what drew her attention was the long canister hanging from his shoulder.

“It’s been very… informative,” Ianto settled, unsure of what adjective applied.

“Um, I know that this probably isn’t my place, but I have something for Ianto,” Jack told Phoenix, piquing her interest even more.

When she nodded her assent, curious to see what he was on about, he handed her the canister. Phoenix recognized it as a contemporary scabbard. She took it from him and eyed it, unhooking the latch at the end.

“Traditionally, the teacher finds the sword for their student, but seeing as how mine and Ben’s resources are currently on hold, this may have to do.”

Her eyes widened as she slid the sword from the carrier. The markings matched all of the drawings and etchings she had seen of the sword, but she wasn’t sure if she trusted her eyes.

“This can’t be?” she asked, her wide eyes meeting Jack’s.

“I had it discreetly authenticated,” he replied, feeling somewhat pleased with himself. “It’s also been sharpened, so it’s good to go.”

“Jack, how on earth did you get your hands on this?”

“Got sucked through the rift,” he shrugged.

“What is it?” Ianto interrupted, not liking the feeling that he was missing something.

“This is Durendal,” Phoenix answered, reverently pulling the blade from the scabbard and lifting it for closer inspection. “Not a facsimile, not a replica, this is the real thing. It’s the sword used by Roland, one of Charlemagne’s paladins. Legend has it, he used this sword to fend off an army of one hundred thousand Muslims so Charlemagne’s forces could retreat into France. Roland didn’t want Durendal to fall into enemy hands, and tried to destroy it, but he was unable to. One story says he hid the sword beneath his body. The monks of Rocamadour said he threw the sword into the cliff face, where some say it still resides. But you have the real thing. This is incredible.”

“It’s said that it’s indestructible,” Jack added. “I thought it seemed like a good choice.”

Now that she was over her initial shock, Phoenix seriously considered the blade for Ianto’s use. She shifted her grip on the hilt to assess the weight and balance.

“Hand and a half grip, good balance; yes, this may do nicely.”

She handed the sword to Ianto to test. The weapon felt foreign in his hand, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to hold it. He shifted his grip around, searching for something that felt almost natural.

“It suits you,” Jack told him quietly, still unsure of his welcome with Phoenix.

“The question now becomes, can he use it?” she replied. “Ben’s a better swordsman than I. He knows every trick in the book, and invented a good many of them. Listen to whatever he tells you.”

“You aren’t going to teach me?” Ianto asked, looking up from his study of Durendal.

“I’m good enough, but most of the time, I’m forced to rely on speed, agility, and stamina over actual skill. Most of my opponents are larger and arrogant, thinking that just because of my small size I’ll be an easy conquest. Because of that, the best strategy for me is to remain defensive until my opponent tires and makes a mistake. Then I strike. I will supplement where necessary, but Ben will be your primary instructor. Don’t worry, once you’ve got the hang of it, I’ll teach you all of my dirty tricks,” she finished with a wink. “Now, I believe you need to show me around, down here.”

* * *

The next few days were relatively calm, allowing the Immortals to settle into a form of routine. Phoenix quickly picked up Ianto’s system of filing and archival, rendering the Welshman sufficiently impressed. Methos spent most of his time working with Owen, punctuated with occasional weevil hunting.

It was the fourth day that everything went pear-shaped.

At the start, there was nothing different. Laughter rang out from the kitchen area as Phoenix helped Ianto get the coffee together. Muttered curses drifted up from the autopsy bay as Methos and Owen argued over whatever specimen they had removed from the vault for examination. Jack was arguing with UNIT about something or other, nothing unusual.

Tosh was in the midst of her morning routine, checking the computer for any suspicious overnight occurrences. Everything appeared to be normal until she noticed that the same man had passed by the tourist office five times in an hour. He had all the tells of an amateur staking out a location.

“Ben, can you come here please?” she called.

“For you, Toshiko, anything,” he replied, smiling sweetly, knowing that doing so was a sure way to get on Owen’s nerves.

“I was wondering if you recognize this man?” she asked, pulling up a still of the man in Mermaid Quay.

Methos cursed, recognizing him as one of the men who had chased him and Phoenix into the Thames just days ago. Phoenix caught the outburst as she and Ianto exited the kitchen with trays of coffee.

“What is it?” she asked, knowing something was wrong.

“The Hunters have found us.”

Ianto blanched at this. While he knew the Hunters had no bead on him since he was technically still mortal, he didn’t want his Immortality to end before it could begin. Setting the coffee on Gwen’s cleared desk, he grabbed a pen and scribbled a quick note before scurrying up to Jack’s office. He quietly entered and held up the message for Jack.

“Colonel Mace, I’m gonna have to call you back,” Jack said as soon as he saw the note that read simply, “Hunters.” “We’ve got a bit of a situation that’s just come up… No nothing UNIT needs to be concerned about. Goodbye, Colonel.”

As soon as he’d hung up, he rounded his desk and descended the stairs into the Hub proper, Ianto following close behind.

“All right, what’s the situation?”

“We’ve had someone casing the tourist office for the past few hours,” Tosh answered. “Ben identified him as one of the Hunters.”

“What do we need to do?” Ianto asked.

Methos sighed, “As much as I would have liked for them to lose interest in us, I knew they would track us down eventually. There’s nothing for it but for us to make a stand. Jack I appreciate all you and your team have done but-“

“Don’t you dare say this isn’t our fight,” Jack interrupted. “Whatever help you need, you’ve got it.”

Methos shook his head, not really expecting anything different from the former con man.

“We need to buy some time,” the Immortal started. “They don’t know for sure where we are, but they are close enough to know the tourist office is key. We need to make sure this lookout can’t report anything back to the rest of the group.”

“Ianto, how about offering our friend a cup of tea?” Jack suggested with a gleam in his eye that was easily interpreted by the Welshman.

“Of course, sir,” Ianto replied, a slight smirk playing with his lips.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think all of them are going to be that easy,” Methos pointed out. “It’s a good idea, though. I’m glad they finally got it working.”

“Okay, what am I missing?” Phoenix piped up, aware that she was missing a key piece of information.

“Retcon,” Jack answered. “It’s a compound that causes amnesia. Depending on the size of the dosage, you can lose anywhere from a few hours to your entire life. It’s tricky, though, and repeated exposure can cause some nasty side effects, but in limited amounts, it’s pretty effective.”

While the others watched on the security feed, Ianto went up to the tourist office to deal with the Hunter.

“Can I help you, sir?” Ianto called, stepping outside the storefront and suppressing a smirk when the man seemed to jump out of his skin.

“Oh, I, uh, I didn’t realize you were open,” he stuttered, his American accent sticking out more than Jack’s, if that was even possible.

“Yes, people often make that mistake. I was wondering if you might like to come in for a cup of tea. It’s a bit nippy out here.”

The Hunter had a brief moment looking like a deer in the headlights, before agreeing, most likely to get a better look at the interior of the tourist office and get an idea of where the two Immortals were hiding. He followed Ianto into the decrepit storefront.

Ianto stepped into the “employee lounge” where he kept the tea things and retcon, returning moments later with the dosed tea.

“Here you go, should help thaw you out,” Ianto said as he handed it over.

“Thanks, I’m not used to it being this cold this time of year,” he replied.

“Well, the damp does make it feel colder than it is,” Ianto commented casually, not missing the Hunter’s not-so-subtle searching around the office. “While you’re in, is there anything I can help you find?”

“Um, no, I think I’m fine. Thanks for the tea,” he said, handing back the now empty cup and all but running out of the store.

Once the other man was gone, Ianto pressed the button on his side of the counter and descended back into the Hub. The impressed looks did not go unnoticed.

“Well, that’s taken care of,” he said simply, putting an effective end to the conversation.

“That only bought us a few days, at most, so we need to get a plan together,” Jack said.

“Why don’t we give them what they want?” suggested Tosh.

“Draw them out into the open,” Owen added.

“Could work,” Jack mused. “What do you think?” he asked, looking to the two Immortals.

Phoenix hoped she didn’t look as scared as she felt. In order to deflect attention, she deflected to Methos, “Ben?”

“We would need to draw them to an isolated location, but one that could be easily covered,” he said, picking up on Phoenix’s discomfort.

“What about the shipyard?” Ianto suggested. “It’s almost impossible to not get lost in the maze of containers.”

“If we scout it out well enough, beforehand, we could use that to our advantage,” Methos nodded.

“Great, now all we need to do is figure out how to get the Hunters there when we want them,” Jack noted.

“That’s the easy part,” Methos grinned. “All I have to do is get them to follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched famous blades that Ianto could use, and came up with Durendal, the Sword of Roland. I even found photos of the "hilt" lodged in the cliffs at Rocamadour. It seemed a fitting blade for Ianto to wield.


	7. Chapter 7

The next night, the Torchwood agents positioned themselves around the shipyard. Their plan was,    as ever,held together by bits of string and duct tape, but the crazy plans had a tendency to work out. Tosh and Phoenix monitored the yard by satellite, scanning for any sign of the Hunters, while Jack, Ianto, and Owen spread out. Methos had spent the better part of the evening wandering around Cardiff trying to lure out the Hunters. He had been just about to give up when he noticed that the same man had followed him into three different locations. Once he was sure they had his trail, he meandered his way to the shipyard, alerting Torchwood en route.

He circled the front stacks of the yard, discretely checking the points where he knew the team would be watching. The modified Beretta Jack had passed him was a reassuring weight tucked into his waistband, and he futilely hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

“Heads up,” came Tosh’s voice floating over the comms, “two cars just pulled into the yard.”

“Looks like five men heading out,” Phoenix chimed in. “Three appear to be heading north, and the other two are headed straight for you, Ben.”

“Let’s rock and roll,” he said, reaching behind to flip the safety off on the gun.

Once the two Hunters came in sight, there was an immediate assessment of each side. Methos could see that the Hunters believed that they had the upper hand, and it was all he could do to not smirk at their arrogance.

“Giving up, Pierson? We honestly expected you to put up more of a fight.”

“Oh no, don’t mistake this meeting for acquiescence,” Methos replied. “I decided to give you a chance to walk away while you still can walk.”

“Not gonna happen, Pierson,” the leader growled.

Methos nodded, “In that case, what happens now is on you.”

Faster than Methos expected, Ianto and Owen emerged and had incapacitated the two Hunters with stun guns before they could even get a cry out. Working swiftly, they carried the Hunters to a waiting shipping container. Once the unconscious men were secured, they returned to wait for the remaining three.

Phoenix released a breath when Jack reported that the two were secured. Three were still out there, but now she honestly believed she and Methos would no longer be haunted by them.

Silence settled over team for some time, until it was pierced by a screech cutting through the comms. Methos yanked the earpiece out, seeking relief from the shrill assault on his eardrums. He was now on alert; if the Hunters had come prepared enough to take out their comms, then they knew they were facing more than just Methos. This cold realization came mere seconds before the cold bite of steel pressed against the back of his neck. He swallowed a curse as he realized he wouldn’t be able to call for aid.

“What did you do with the others, Pierson?” the young man demanded, pressing the blade harder to Methos’ neck.

“They’re safe, for now,” he growled, wincing as the blade bit into his skin.

“That’s more than I can say for you,” came a new voice.

Methos chanced a glance back to his left, his eyebrows shooting skyward when he saw Phoenix holding her own jian against the Hunter’s neck.

“You break the skin, I break your neck,” she hissed. “Move away.”

Methos turned as Phoenix backed the Hunter into the nearest container, rubbing his neck where the sword had been pressed into the skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

“When the comms went out, Tosh and I left the van,” she explained, keeping her blade against the Hunter’s neck. “She and Jack are securing the last two.”

“Last _one_ , actually,” Owen chimed in, as he and Ianto brought one of the Hunters around at gunpoint.

“Shall we allow these gentlemen to join their companions?” Ianto asked, faux pleasantness masking the unease that Phoenix could see in his eyes, and she understood completely; the Hunters could not be sealed up soon enough for her liking.

They herded the two hunters to the shipping container where the first two had been deposited. Jack and Tosh were just dragging the final Hunter into the shipping container.

“Inside,” Owen directed, prodding the man with his gun.

Once all five were inside the container, Jack turned to them, “You have enough food and water for two weeks, but you should be State-side in one. If I ever see you back in Britain, and I _will_ be watching, I won’t be so lenient.”

With that, he closed the container doors on their fuming faces. He locked the container and turned back to the others.

“That’s it?” Phoenix asked; she knew the plan, but it still seemed like she was missing something.

“Well, the water’s laced with retcon,” Ianto offered.

“By the time they reach Los Angeles, they should have drank away a few years,” Jack added, a satisfied grin in place.

Phoenix’s face softened, realizing just what Jack had done.

“Thank you, Jack,” she said softly.

The clouds that had been threatening to rain all evening finally decided to drop their load, drenching all of them as the bottom suddenly fell out. The somber mood was official broken, as they hurried back to the SUV, trying in vain to not get too wet.

* * *

Once within the confines of the Hub, they began shedding their outer layers. Ianto immediately went to gather towels and then started making coffee. Silence reigned for several minutes as they dried off.

“Well, that was a new one,” Owen remarked.

“I suppose that the two of you will be heading on, now that you don’t have to worry about the Hunters,” Tosh said.

“Actually,” Methos began, looking from Phoenix to Jack, “if your boss doesn’t mind, we might stick around for a bit.”

Phoenix had noticed Ianto tense imperceptively at the mention of the two Immortals leaving. He needn’t have worried, as neither Phoenix nor Methos would leave the young pre-Immortal to his own devices before they were sure he could survive.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Jack replied, recognizing the ulterior motive for them to stay.

“Gwen is gonna love this,” Owen muttered. “You know how much she likes change.”

“I’ll deal with Gwen,” Jack stated. “Ben and Anna are staying with Torchwood on my say-so. If she doesn’t like it, tough.”

Methos smirked. It seemed Gwen Cooper was a headstrong woman, and he had a feeling she had given Jack more than a few headaches. Meeting her would sure be interesting.

“Alright, kids, it’s late. Go home, get some rest. I want to see everyone bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.”

At Jack’s directive, Owen and Tosh went to gather their things and bid them goodnight before heading out the cog door. Ianto began to tidy up, and Phoenix suppressed a smirk as she thought he was buying time before following Jack up to his office. She and Methos said they would see him in the morning and made their own way down to their quarters

They stripped out of their still-wet clothes and collapsed in bed, the stress of the past two weeks finally releasing and leaving behind intense exhaustion. They welcomed sleep readily, knowing that it might be scarce, staying with Torchwood. Everything was about to change; whatever came, they were in for one hell of an adventure.

 

_Fin_


End file.
